What on earth is going to go wrong, or missing, next?

Somewhere in my, not exactly large, house there is a pair of glasses. Well, to be precise, there are several pairs of glasses, scattered in various random places, although somehow never one to hand when I need them. But that’s another story for further on in this account of lockdown mishap, mayhem and edge-of-madness.

This particular pair of glasses is nowhere to be found. In spite of the fact that, for obvious reasons, I know for sure they have to be somewhere in the house. Possibly with them, playing some kind of really-not-funny game of hide and seek, is a credit card that I used last week to make an on-line purchase and which has since completely disappeared. Seriously, it’s time for the game to be over guys. I’m bored with looking for you both now.

At the time of writing this, we in the UK have been on lockdown for 35 days. On the whole, I like to think I’m managing this staying safe at home malarky pretty well. But reflecting on the truly spectacular number of things that have a) gone wrong with the house and b) gone astray or awry, in that time, the evidence might beg to differ.

Let’s examine the case for prosecution:

Exhibit 1

Within days of the lockdown starting, the pulley mechanism on my bedroom blind started to grind to a halt. At first it was just a bit tetchy about being pulled up. Within a very short time, it refused to raise the blind beyond half way.

I consider myself pretty handy, so I thought I’d just take the blind down, open up the mechanism, sort it out (with help from a YouTube how-to video if necessary) and it would be back to plain blind sailing.

I’ll cut a long and painful story mercifully short and just report that , in spite of the normally infallible services of YouTube, that wasn’t how the scenario played out. Lets just say that since the end of the first week of being at home, my blind has lived like this during the day…

Well that’s one way to take a blind down I suppose

…and is put up each night by me climbing on a step ladder and attaching it by velcro, and leave it at that.

Exhibit 2

I had shiny new appliances installed in my kitchen when I moved into my house 6 years ago. They’ve all worked without a hiccup for all of those 6 years, thank you very much.

So how is it then, that in the space of three weeks my oven stopped working completely, and one of the knobs on my hob came off in my hand as I was cleaning it?

Could it be that there’s a mutated version of the virus that attacks domestic appliances?

In case you’re remotely interested (and even still reading by now), the oven had to be fixed by an engineer (who thankfully was still coming out for emergencies, which I definitely considered this to be, ahem….) but I found a replacement knob for the hob and installed it myself. I’d be feeling rather more chuffed about that if it wasn’t for the fact that, although it was precisely the right design, and although it works perfectly, it didn’t exactly fit exactly the same way as the existing ones. See if you can spot which the new one is!

Can you work out which the new one is? Go on, try!

Exhibit 3

It could very successfully be argued that being connected by technology has never been more important, useful and comforting than it is right now. So imagine, if you will, just how I felt when I woke one morning in week four of lockdown to find that my internet had…….disappeared.

Summonsing all my powers of resolve, I tried to stay as calm as I could whilst working my way through all the things that could possibly be wrong with my connection/router/wiring. I didn’t do too badly for the first hour, but by 75 minutes of going round in endless, equally unsuccessful, loops of testing and tweaking I was doing an impressive impression of someone on the verge of entirely losing their shit.

If you’re wondering why I didn’t just ring my broadband provider, they’re currently not providing telephone support to customers other than key workers or anyone who’s vulnerable. Which, in desperation, I might, er, have sort of suggested I had someone in the house who was (technically not a lie, I felt vulnerable in the extreme without any internet connection) when I eventually caved in and called them.

Who knows what caused my router to pack up - which turned out to the the problem - but I’m putting my money on that wretched domestic virus mutation.

Exhibit 4

I would say this consists of multiple exhibits, but actually, it’s just one exhibit repeated multiple times.

I’m afraid I simply can’t accurately say, M’ Lud, how many times I put my phone down and then can’t remember where it is. But I am able to confirm that it’s a lot.

And it’s not as if I can call the number on my landline in order to locate it, because I don’t have one.

So when, for the umpteenth time, I reach out for the phone and it isn’t there, I have to go through same tiresome palaver of retracing my - limited - steps and checking the back of the sofa cushions (how has that become such a regular place for it to disappear to?) It’s very tedious.

But not quite as tedious as….

Exhibit 5

…the number of times a day I end up looking for my glasses. (And yes, I admit there are far too frequently a pair on the top of my head at the time.)

I mean, I deliberately bought several pairs of fabulously funky ready readers from the excellent selection at Izipizi, specifically in order to scatter enough of them around the house that there would always be a pair to hand.

So how is it that there aren’t? Or that several of them congregate together in one spot? Or disappear altogether (see opening paragraph)?

Answers on a postcard please.

Exhibit 6

It turns out I’m rather less good at shopping on-line than I thought. Actually, let me clarify that. I’m great at shopping on-line for clothes and household items. But rather less adept when it comes to groceries and, apparently, haberdashery.

In the past week I have had a fruit and veg box delivered with enough little cucumbers to feed a family of guinea pigs for a month, but just one kiwi.

And the 1 metre of fabric I bought to try making some masks from, turned out to be one roll. So rather a lot more potential masks than I anticipated then….. Oh, and should you ever be in need of it, I’ve got a lot of 0.5cm white tape. Don’t ask.

I could go on, but honestly you don’t need to hear about the phone tripod (which I use all the time do my Heydays videos, pics and recordings) that snapped just as I was about to do a Facebook Live; my drains which seem to have gone on a slowdown since lockdown (you definitely don’t want to know any more detail than that); or the mop handle that lifted clean (see what I did there?) away from the head. My gaffer tape and glue have never been as frequently used as they have in the past 35 days.

Evidence conclusion

Maybe this is some sort of lockdown lottery game sent by the universe to test my resilience/patience/endurance/humour (delete as appropriate) whilst I’m stuck, sorry, safe at home, watching my house and my mind crumble day-by-day. If it is, I wouldn’t mind if it ended some time soon. I mean, I’m as up for a game as the next woman, but I’m rather losing my enthusiasm for this one.

In the meantime, I’ll distract myself with yet another round of my latest app-game obsession, Wordscapes. Or I would if I could find my phone. And my glasses.

What lockdown mishaps have befallen you? Come on now - I’ve admitted (or bored you rigid with) mine.